And I liked it
by rizzlesismyotp
Summary: "I wonder what kind of women you would like if we liked women" Jane scoffed, "Don't you mean 'we', Doc? if WE liked women?" "No, I typically find myself interested in confident, intelligent and athletic women," she paused briefly, allowing herself to observe Jane's reaction to her newly spoken sexuality, "and they are almost exclusively brunette."
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: Hi! This is my first attempt at a fic so feel free to be as critical as you think is necessary.**

**Happy reading!**

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"I wonder what kind of women you'd like if you liked women," Maura said, as she slid her laptop closer to the foot of the bed she was sharing with her best friend. The exceptionally skilled medical examiner and homicide detective were working a case - the murder of a young lesbian woman - that had presented Maura with an opportunity to approach the topic of sexuality- a conversational item that was typically taboo with sarcastic brunette.

Jane scoffed, the topic of conversation making her feel wildly uncomfortable and strangely inadequate; a combination of emotions that almost exclusively presented itself when she found herself talking to the doctor about sex. "What?" Jane questioned, leading the conversation away from her own ill feelings, a mechanism she regularly used when she needed a moment to think to herself, before continuing, "Well, first of all, I would be the guy, and-" She cut herself short, finally realising exactly what Maura had just said. A small smirk presented itself on the detective's lips, and the casual tone she'd held thus far dropped a note and melted into one of insinuation, interrogation and- as far as Maura could detect- a hint of curiosity. "And-" she continued, thoroughly concentrated on her choice of words, "don't you mean 'we', doc? …If _we_ liked women?"

Maura shrugged her shoulders lightly before turning to face Jane directly. "No," she said, her word dripping with the delicacy and delivery Jane had grown to expect from the M.E's banter, "I typically find myself interested in confident, intelligent and athletic women," she paused briefly, allowing herself to observe Jane's reaction to her newly spoken sexuality, "and they are almost exclusively brunette."

The detective, whose silent sentiments of inadequacy now loomed over her wild raven coloured head, found herself speechless. Maura had been attracted to women. _Women._ That's more than one. Maura has been attracted to multiple women. Women, who, as far as the detective could imagine, looked like Jane Rizzoli.

Maura shifted in her place on the bed. She'd wanted to tell Jane about this part of herself for a long while- a plan made impossible by her best friend's immaturity and distaste for _those kinds of things_- and now that it was finally out in the open, she was having trouble understanding how Jane felt about it. Maura internally berated herself for not being able to acquire any data. Her hypothesis, that Jane would be _pleasantly_ surprised, could not be proven without sufficient evidence, and Jane wasn't offering any. An awkward silence settled between the two women and Maura spied Jane rubbing her thumbs against the fading scars on her hands. It was a sign that the brunette was feeling anxious, and the uncertainty that this knowledge provided for Maura made the crushing, awkward silence unbearable.

"Jane," She whispered in attempt to alleviate the tension that was building in the air- a plan that backfired when the object of her statement made no reply and a deeper, almost suffocating echoless, soundless, vacuum like silence filled the room, broken again when Maura spoke, "Jane, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. This case just made me start thinking about sexuality and how- well you know it's not really as black and white as people assume, it's really not even definable by shades of gray- human sexuality is fluid and changing and we really don't understand it, it's a bit like the universe in that sense- do you know what I mean? What we do know is that we can't know everything, and then I thought, I don't know everything about _Jane_, but you're not like the universe because I can just _ask_ you rather than speculate and hypothesize and my curiosity sparked and then, well you know how I can't lie, what was I supposed to do? But I didn't mean to make this so awkward, I'm so, so sorry, Jane!"

As Maura finished her rant, she noticed that Jane appeared to be shaking, and immediately began to internally chastise herself. _Oh no, I've made her cry! This really isn't the kind of reaction I would have expected from her. Did I do something wrong? I must have. I really should learn to be socially appropriate. _It was then that Maura heard the sound that Jane was making, and realised that she had not, in fact, butchered the poor tortured soul of the detective. "Jane Rizzoli, are you laughing at me?"

"Oh my god, Maur, I thought you were going to pass out just now. Take a breath next time you recite the dictionary, alright?" the detective playfully quipped. Maura shot her a harsh look, hurt that Jane took such pleasure in making her feel like an idiot, which- judging by her IQ, she certainly was not. "You're horrible! And you _would_ be the man in the relationship, with those… things" she pointed to the boots that Jane had unceremoniously discarded next to the bed. "I really hope you don't wear them tomorrow night on your _date_" she let her final word hang in the air and watched as it registered in Jane's mind.

"What?!" she basically yelled at Maura, "besides, those boots are comfortable. And they look good with anything. The ladies would be lucky to find someone with such gorgeous boots." Maura chuckled for a moment, internally substituting the word _boots_ for one more… anatomical. After a second, Jane savvied on to what was happening inside the doctor's mind and immediately regretted her choice of words. _Good going, Rizzoli. That'll definitely get you out of all of this undercover shit._ "Anyway, if _you're_ the one that likes women, why the hell am _I_ the one that's supposed to go to the gay bar? If we don't get any leads maybe you'd still get lucky…" the detective offered, before laughing at her own joke. It was a habit, Maura presumed, she'd picked up in her time as partner to Vince Korsack. She was not amused. "Oh come on Maur," Jane said, still giggling, when she noticed the unimpressed look on her friend's face, "that was _kinda_ funny at least!"

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**A/N: This is actually going somewhere I just got excited and posted it early.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N so hey, this is like really late so sorry about that  
y'all probably don't even remember reading this shit the first time**

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**"Oh come on Maur, that was ****_kinda_**** funny at least!"**

"You know just as well as I do that your comment was _not_ amusing, Jane Clementine Rizzoli!" Maura said, with such intensity and conviction that Jane thought for a second that she had crossed a major line for the doctor. "I'm sorry Maur, I don't mean to be an ass-" Maura silenced her, "And, the reason _you_ are going to the gay bar is because it's _your_ job, de-tec-tive." Hearing the doctor annunciate her title sent a shiver up Jane's spine. Somehow, the honey blonde sliced the word into three distinct sections with her tongue,_ those are called syllables, asshole,_ Jane thought, before returning to her musing of the doctor, articulating every plosive as it escaped from her mouth in such a way that when the sound landed in Jane's ear, it was laced with raw energy and desire. "Uh…" Jane stuttered, momentarily distracted by the suggestiveness she could almost taste in Maura's words. It had always been like that, though. The doctor would say something, and Jane would think it the most desirable thing in the world. She'd always suspected Maura to have been with other women in the past. Or maybe just one. In college. On a dare, or purely for the purpose of experimentation. They say people do that; experiment. Of course, Jane imagined, Maura Isles would be the girl who kisses a girl to prove a hypothesis. "Jane," Maura said, putting her hand to the detective's arm, the warmth of her touch snapping the brunette out of her daze. Her cheeks flushed pink with embarrassment, made worse by the fact that she was sure the observant doctor would see the sticky redness crawl up her body, and be able to extrapolate why it was there. "Are you alright? You've been sitting there for a few minutes without saying anything," Maura looked into Jane's face and placed a hand on her cheek, "and you seem to be exhibiting signs of idiopathic craniofacial erythema."

"uhh.. Maur, I'm fine. There's no idiopathetic craniotomy eery thelma, or… whatever. I'm just tired. It's been a long day."

"Idiopathic craniofacial erythema, Jane. It means that you have a severe case of-" Maura paused to build faux suspense- "blushing." As she used the commonplace term for Jane's condition, she maintained the sense of drama and urgency one would expect to hear from a surgeon delivering bad news, before giggling at her attempted humour.

"Ha, ha. Very funny, Doc." Jane growled, though she couldn't deny that the doctor's laughter was definitely forgivable. "Anyway Maur," Jane continued, needing her friend's attention to be drawn away from her embarrassment, "I'm pretty beat. I think I'll just go to sleep. Y'know, big day tomorrow, what with all of the lesbianism and the potential murderers out there."

Jane didn't feel Maura move as she settled herself comfortably in bed. She was relieved that it was _just_ the right temperature inside that she wouldn't have to side under the covers, or have to bother about getting changed. The thought of kicking her best friend out of the bed- even momentarily-gave Jane Rizzoli the strangely unnerving sensation that she might never come back.

The next morning, Jane was surprised to find Maura still snugly lying in bed. For a moment, everything that Maura had confessed the night before was forgotten, and Jane was content to be there with the peaceful looking doctor- that is, until Jo Friday took it upon herself wake up the graceful woman on the left side of the bed.

"It's just me, Jo," Maura mumbled, coaxing herself out of slumber, and the dog promptly left the bed. "I must have fallen asleep while I was meditating," she continued- this time addressing Jane. It was almost as though she needed to convince the detective that she had no ulterior motives to spending the night.

The pair, who were both sitting up right now; Maura in an elegant and poised position- likely the result of her past ballet education- and Jane, who was slumped and lethargic, and looked as though she might be _watching_ ballet.

"Well," Maura started, wanting to remind the detective about her new undercover assignment "maybe we should take a look and see if anybody else has signed up to hook into you…"

That's when Jane remembered. Last night. In bed. Maura. Women. _Shit._ She gave an exasperated sigh and, blowing a single dark curl away from her face, begun correcting the genius sitting beside her. "that's not… how you say it. It's hook up _with_ you"

Maura had to stop herself from smirking- not that the tired detective would really have noticed; sleep still lounging in her eyes. This might be the perfect opportunity to have some fun with Jane. _Not the most fun she could have with the detective in bed, but good enough. For now. _ The thought slipped in and out of Maura's mind in an instant. It was one she'd had several times before, and, although the doctor couldn't lie, exactly, she was perfectly happy to leave that particular piece of information in the dark from a certain detective. But that didn't mean she couldn't play with her a little bit.

"Hook up with you," Maura repeated, almost like a question. "Really?" Jane nodded, pleased that there were things _she_ could teach a doctor.

"But I thought you _didn't_ want to pretend to be gay." Maura watched as she saw the realisation sink into Jane's face. She could almost smell the moment that Jane begun to replay the entire conversation in her mind it was so palpable.

"Oh come on Jane, it was kinda funny at least," the doctor whispered, happy to be able to recycle the detective's sarcastic retort from the night before. Jane looked less than amused.

"Well aren't you clever," she said- her face flat and devoid of emotion "with your-" Jane very nearly completed another sarcastic snap at the doctor before she was interrupted by the very woman she'd planned on insulting.

"With my genius-level IQ? Why, yes. I do believe the term 'clever' could be an accurate representation of my mental faculties."

_You win this round, Doc, _thought the brunette. But she would never willingly admit to defeat- at least… not verbally, so instead she ended the morning's conversation with a simple "whatever. Let's just get ready for work" and promptly left the bed.


End file.
